


Trouble Looks For Me

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Collars, D/s, Drabble, F/M, Femdom, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub!Loki, dom!Natasha, minor orgasm denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat more than enjoys showing Loki his place</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble Looks For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like! There's never enough femdom Nat in the world, so thought I'd add at least a little bit more to it =] Thanks for reading!

There were few things that excited Natasha as much as being on top.  Yes, a new gun always got her blood pumping, and a mission that went well, or even better surviving one by the skin of her teeth, flushed her cheeks and set her in a damn good mood most of the time.  But looking down at Loki, her full lips curved in a shit-eater’s grin as she gyrated her hips lazily against his, the fabric pulled tight between them as he strained against the confines of his trousers to garner more friction?  Watching his eyes flutter before they stared up at her, lips swollen and wet from where she’d just kissed and bitten them, cheeks and neck flush with heat from the way her body pressed perfectly against his?  Well, everything else seemed to come in a short second.  She hummed in pleasure as her fingers drifted down the collar she’d fitted around his throat, nails scraping against the skin of his exposed collarbone before she tugged at the thick D-ring at the front of the collar, the tags on the front jingling gently with the motion.  He sat up without question, and when she leaned closer to bite his ear, ordering him to remove what was left of his shirt, it was with hasty fingers that he obeyed.  He was always so good when he was desperate, she recounted, kissing her way down his throat, biting gently at his adam’s apple before sucking on the spot just above his leather collar.  The scent of it filled her nostrils and caused her to moan softly, hips rocking hard enough that he let out a low whine.  

“Please, Natasha,” he murmured, and oh it had taken her so long to teach him to speak to her like this--like she owned him and had the final say--and she loved every moment of it.  Nuzzling her nose against his throat, taking in the harsh scent of sweat, arousal, and leather, she pressed a ‘No’ into his skin before pushing him back down with a firm hand on his chest.  

With wide eyes he watched her remove her own shirt, slipping it over her head with sensual rolls of her hips, soft, practiced moans as she built the tension as high as she dared, slipping his trousers from his waist shortly after.  His cock sprung free, Loki having some sort of personal vendetta against underwear--and she grinned to see it leaking and hard, ready for her to take as hard as she wanted.  Mouth watering, she leaned in after having thrown his pants to the ground, and swallowed the head whole, swirling her tongue around the tip as he let out a curse and reached one hand for her hair.  She had it pinned at his side half a second later, eyes meeting him, one brow arched as though to question if he was really stupid enough to do that.  

He just keened, trying to buck his hips, but stopping as she pulled away.  Only when he completely stilled again did she start to move again, licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock and reveling in the way his body tightened beneath her, waiting for her go ahead to do anything else.  They’d been playing this game of master and subservient for some time, ever since he’d come to her with a sub complex a mile wide, practically presenting his throat for her to cut when she’d threatened to kill him if he didn’t leave her room.  

Needless to say, it’d been interesting to discover that his list of kinks was quite similar to her own, and she delighted in finding more and exploiting them as best she could.  As it was, she very much liked leaving him on the edge for as long as she dared, forcing him to hold tight to the bed without the relief of being tied up and relying on his bonds to keep him from moving, but rather he had to keep himself from reaching out as he was so eager to do.  There was no question, as his back bent and his fingers dug harder into the blankets, as his jaw clenched and the softest of moans wormed its way from between his gritted teeth that he was thoroughly enjoying it.  Though he did like to play.  

She’d just slid atop him, moaning and running her nails down his bare chest until he shivered beneath her, when he started fighting back.  They’d go through this every so often, Loki enjoying being put in his place just as much as Nat loved putting him there.  He sat up quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist and fusing their lips together, trying to buck back against her, to get his own pleasure.  

“Loki,” she growled, pushing his hands off of her body, one hand pressing him quickly back down hard onto the bed, her hips grinding hard against his in penance.  He groaned and bucked as she picked up the pace, turned it punishing as she moved both hands onto his chest to use as a surface with which to help herself push up, and nearly slip off of him, before slamming back down, her breasts bouncing just in front of his face.  He tried pushing back, begging for more contact, and she grabbed his collar in retaliation.  

“Excuse you?” She demanded, eyes flashing, one hand slapping his cheek just hard enough to make it sting, and when he turned back his eyes were glassy and the pupils were full blown, his breath coming in short gasps.  She fucked him harder, slapping him once more until he moaned beneath her.  She angled her body downwards, biting and sucking at his chest, teasing his nipples between her finger tips and her teeth, before bringing them further down his torso.  All the while he didn’t move, her name a constant on his lips, knuckles white as his nails shredded the comforter.  

He looked wrecked, she noticed when she looked up from behind her lashes, biting hard on the side of his ribs, grinning against his skin.  His hair was a mess, sticking tight to his sweat-covered forehead, his cheeks nearly as red as her hair, and his eyes sliding further and further out of focus as Natasha pushed him closer to the edge and backed off, resorting to slowing her movements until he was shouting and screaming for her to let him finish.  

“Please Natasha--please,” he sobbed, and she watched with glee as the tears beaded in his eyes out of desperation.  She brought her lips up to his, sucked on his bottom lip.  “Please what?” She asked against his skin.  

“Please can I--I just need--I need to c-come.”  He gasped.  

God, he really _was_ a wreck.  She supposed that was what he got for having pushed her to hold out for the past couple weeks, and though she’d taken her fill from her own fingers and the toys she kept around for those very purposes (as well as his mouth every one and a while, when he earned it) she’d ensured he didn’t have any sort of release himself.  

A pity, because normally she could keep him on the edge for days.  Would do it, too, if she had the time to spare.  “Alright, Loki,” she purred in his ear, nipping at his ear.  “But you have to do one thing for me.”

“A-anything,” he whined as she slammed her hips so hard down onto him that she felt it in her bones, felt the way he surged against her nearly pushed her over her own peak.  

“Tell me you’re mine.  Forever.  Only mine.”  

And he did, babbling on until the words ran into one another, promising his life to her and everything he was and had as hers as well.  He assured her he’d never look at another woman as his hips pistoned into hers, Natasha allowing him to chase his own end and allowing herself to just _enjoy_ as he did all the damn work.  He swore he loved her, that he’d never love another woman, and with these words she stilled above him, yanking him hard by the collar once more so that they could kiss, licking into his mouth as he moaned and came inside her, spurned on by the tightening of her walls around him.  

Later, as they collapsed and Natasha played gently with his hair, considering braiding it just to play a prank, he leaned up to kiss her throat.  

“I mean it,” he said softly, voice hoarse.  

“I know,” she answered in just as quiet a voice, smiling.  He’d never needed to say it, and judging by the smile he pressed against her shoulder blades she didn’t, either.  

 


End file.
